


Ep 1x02: Church of the Broken

by patronsaintofangst



Series: Wear The Crown (Season 1) [2]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst and Tragedy, Canon Rewrite, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Falling In Love, Families of Choice, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Idiots in Love, Love Triangles, Motorcycles, Opie Winston Lives, Post-Canon, Smut, Sons of Anarchy is Its Own Warning, Teen Angst, Unconventional Families, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29454357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patronsaintofangst/pseuds/patronsaintofangst
Summary: With one of their legacies in serious trouble, the club comes face-to-face with the consequences of being lulled into a false sense of security by the truce following the death of their matriarch, Tara Teller.
Relationships: Lyla Winston/Opie Winston
Series: Wear The Crown (Season 1) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2123976
Kudos: 1





	1. Teaser

**Author's Note:**

> This is a novelized screenplay series, broken up into acts instead of chapters. And if you can't tell already, it retcons the last season of _Sons of Anarchy_ , which finished in 2014. There are several key differences sprinkled throughout, but I promise they are obvious and have well-thought-out explanations.

“Baby girl, I am so sorry,” Jax started. 

Clementine blinked, everything still in slow motion as she stared down at Reece’s bloodied body. None of it made sense. He was fine. He was in one piece when she watched him drive off, doing the very job she wished she could do. And they had brought him back to her  _ like this _ . 

It didn’t make sense, damnit.

A red medical kit appeared out of the corner of Clementine’s eye and her head instinctually moved in its direction. This she understood. This she remembered. Her hands gravitated toward it, unzipping the top of the bag, the one her mom had used for a million and a half impromptu surgeries in this very clubhouse. She’d even done a few herself, learning everything from her mom. 

Not that any of it had helped her that night. 

“Call the doctor, somebody,” she commanded without looking up, springing into action. “Tell him what you know. And ask when he can get here. Daddy, you tell me what happened.”

Bobby nodded, putting his ancient phone to his ear as Jax leaned down close to Clementine. She had no idea why he was attempting to keep anything a secret. Everyone would find out eventually. There were no secrets in a family like theirs. 

“Heretics,” Jax whispered. “I think. A sniper.” 

“A gun?” she asked, her brow furrowed. 

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated. 

“You can be sorry later. Tell me what you know,” she demanded, her teeth bared. 

Jax took another deep breath, the entire room still waiting silently for an explanation and Clementine’s reaction to it. Since her mom had been taken from them so ruthlessly, so violently, her emotions had governed everything in this place. And she had never taken that responsibility lightly. But right now, in this moment, she had no idea if she had what it took to be both tempered and sane. Logical and practical. Or really anything resembling warm and nurturing. 

In this moment, all she knew how to be was clinical, exacting, and cold. That had been the only thing to get her through when it had been someone else lying on the ground in front of her while they bled out. 

“Doc says he can be here in an hour,” Bobby explained from somewhere behind her. 

“Does he have an hour, Daddy?”

“I can stitch him up.” 

Clementine’s head shot up as the new guy she had completely missed spoke. She blew her hair out of her face as she tried to understand why he was talking at all. 

“Awesome. So can I.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” he retorted. “But I don’t think you want him bleeding out on your pool table either. He coughed up a little blood, but I think it's a through and through. No major arteries or he’d be dead.” He moved forward, attempting to take the medical kit from her side. “You can stay, or whatever, since you’re his Old Lady, but just, ya know, don’t scream.”

Clementine’s mouth dropped open with an audible pop, and it took everything she possessed not to climb over Reece and claw this kid’s eyes out.    
  
“What the  _ fuck _ did you just say to me?” she screeched. 

“Clem!” Opie yelled. “Kill him later. Help now, okay?”

Clementine stared at him hard for a second before nodding and getting back to work. She started by cutting his shirt off with the surgical scissors that Juice handed her, removing Reece’s kutte as carefully as possible, so she didn’t jostle him too much. 

“Doc wants to know if you can see the exit?” Bobby asked. 

She lifted him up just enough to feel around on his back where she assumed there would be one, and found it quickly. The sticky red liquid now coating her fingers, though, made her stomach turn violently. It wasn’t the blood that made her nauseous either, she knew. It was the fact that it was from Reece. 

“Yeah, it looks clean. I don’t feel the bullet in there or anything.”

Bobby didn’t respond to her, but began to mumble into the phone as Clementine pulled out all the supplies she’d need to complete her task as quickly as possible. 

“He said he’ll do an X-ray to be sure, when he can, but he trusts you. Stitch him up.”

“On it,” Clementine responded. “Now, what’s this shit about coughing up blood?”

Jax cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with being in the spotlight in this moment. “He, uh, we were at a rest stop. He made a joke. Started laughing. Then he coughed. Coughed up a little blood. Could be anything, though, right?”

“Theoretically,” she agreed. “But he’s gonna have to go to the hospital tonight, Daddy. Or the Doc needs to come here. Obviously I’d feel better if…”

The minute Clementine went to put the first stitch in, Reece shot straight up and started to scream. She moved back, careful not to poke him any further, and laid the needle down nearby to free up both her hands. 

“Baby, it’s okay,” she cooed. “It’s me. Lay down. I need to stitch you up.”

He couldn’t hear her, though, and he kept moving. Thankfully, for the most part, he was clutching his shoulder, which meant he was being somewhat helpful by staunching most of the blood flood. 

“Hey, man. I got you,” the new kid said, pushing his shoulders down. “Lay down, okay? Let your girl work on you.”

He was gentle, but firm as he forced Reece to do as he was told. Much more gentle than his large frame would imply he was capable of, anyway. Of course, Clementine knew better than to judge people by their appearances. She had grown up in a motorcycle club, for fuck’s sake. While she ran toward the big, tough, scary-looking dude, most people crossed the street to get away. 

Clementine, however, didn’t offer a thank you, or even acknowledgement of his help, as she started to grab everything she needed again. 

She could feel his eyes on her as she started to stitch Reece up with the precision of a skilled surgeon, something everyone else in this clubhouse had seen before. And any other time she would have been ecstatic to show off like this, especially in front of someone who’d just doubted her. But she was fighting back tears instead. 

This was Reece. Her best friend. He wasn't allowed to get hurt. 

Clementine didn’t utter a word as she worked. She was completely zoned into what was happening in front of her, ignoring who exactly it was she was working on and focusing on the act of healing instead. 

Her dad would occasionally give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, but other than Reece’s intermittent groans, the clubhouse remained silent. And it only added to the eerie and uneasy tone that had settled around them. She knew they probably thought they were helping by being so quiet, but she operated in a certain level of chaos. Silence, to Clementine Teller, was distracting. 

To his credit, the new kid never left. Reece didn’t move again, granted, but Clementine knew that had more to do with the alcohol Tig was pouring down his throat. Something else she was purposely ignoring, since it wasn’t going to help in the long run. He’d have to forgo any heavy duty meds for a while because of it, so she wasn’t sure  _ he’d _ appreciate it in a few hours. But this was all most of them knew to do to handle pain of any kind. 

As she placed the last stitch, she sat back and everyone loosened their grip on Reece. 

“Thank you,” Opie said behind her.

“Ope, can I  _ talk _ to you?” Lyla asked through gritted teeth. 

“Oh, uh, I think I should stay here,” he responded. “Jax and I gotta talk about what to do next, baby. You understand, right?”

The tension that descended on them now was much different, and it almost made Clementine laugh. As the club’s acting matriarch, standing in for Clementine until they figured out new arrangements, Lyla was not a person you wanted to piss off. Even if you were married to her. Actually, especially if you were married to her. 

And it was no secret that Opie Winston was terrified of his wife. 

In a cute, she’ll-cut-your-balls-off-if-you-fuck-up kind of way. In fact, she was the kind of Old Lady that Clementine had always imagined herself being had her world not caved in around her. 

“Yeah, I get it,” she finally responded. “Chickenshit,” she mumbled under her breath. 

Then the spell was broken. Several people snorted their laughter, Clementine and Jax included, as he gave her a quick hug. 

“Go wash up, baby girl, and then meet me in my office.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she said. 

She swallowed hard as she watched him walk off, the new kid in tow, as everyone else went back to whatever they’d been doing before violence had been dumped at their doorstep again. 

It was over. For now. 


	2. Act One

Clementine stared at the walls in her dad’s office, which now sat on the second floor of the expansion, a place she hadn’t visited in months. Other than the brief spurts where she dropped off mail, or a meal, she avoided this wing of the complex like the plague. The entire room was a damn shrine to her mom. 

Usually she was okay with the little reminders. The smell of her perfume. A picture from when she and her dad were younger. Her own smile in the mirror. Those didn’t hurt so bad. But in here, it was hell. Every single surface was covered in offerings to the god of grief. 

In here, it was like a wound being reopened when she crossed the threshold. 

Clementine had no idea how her dad could stand it. Granted, she’d never asked him either, but that hadn’t felt like a conversation they were ready for yet. Certainly neither of them were prepared for it. They barely managed to function most days. Talking about her so openly felt like flirting with disaster. 

The door behind her finally opened, offering her a respite in the form of a distraction, and she turned in the ancient leather chair. Her smile faltered when she noticed the new kid hot on her dad’s heels still. 

“You okay?” Jax asked, shutting the door behind them both. 

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Sure?”

“Dad, stop,” she commanded. “I can handle this.”

He sat down slowly behind his desk, smirking at her as she dared cop an attitude with him, before ultimately deciding not to press it in front of company. 

“What the hell is  _ he _ doing here?” she accused. 

Jax watched her carefully as she motioned toward the interloper with her eyes, never completely turning her head in his direction. Then Jax ran his finger over his mustache thoughtfully, just like he always did when he was trying to get her to crack first. 

It never worked. 

He finally shrugged. “Thought you might like a proper introduction to the kid before you knock his ass out.”

Clementine rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest, determined to ignore said kid entirely. He wouldn’t have anything to contribute to the conversation, so she didn’t understand why he was even allowed in here. But she knew better than to question her dad so blatantly when it wasn’t just the two of them alone. 

“Shelby Dane,” he interjected, thrusting his hand into her eyeline. 

She scoffed. “I literally do not care.”

“Clementine,” Jax warned softly. 

She took a deep breath, reaching up to shake his hand quickly before yanking back her own. “Clem.”

“Nice to meet you,” he responded sincerely. “I’m, uh, sorry about earlier.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him hanging his head in the appropriate amount of shame, but she wasn’t ready to give up on her vengeance so easily. He deserved her ire, if only for a few more hours. He had earned that much. 

“Whatever,” she grumbled. But then Jax gave her a hard look and perked an eyebrow. “It’s fine,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Reece is fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Jax nodded, as if she’d passed some sort of test. “Good. Now, do you want to know what happened?”

She had a perfectly good sarcastic remark waiting on the tip of her tongue, but she was being afforded answers she didn’t think she’d be getting unless it was through Reece, and only in secret. She wasn’t about to turn down this opportunity by appearing childish. She wasn’t an idiot. 

“Yes, please.”

“It was a clear hit,” he offered. “On Shelby.”

Well, she thought, that makes sense. She was being given answers because they didn’t have a lot of information yet. Still, it was better than she was used to, so she’d take it. For now. 

Then Jax sighed heavily and reached out his hands, splaying them across the wooden desk in front of him. His fingers almost skimmed the edges of one of the frames she knew housed a picture of her mom. She was all alone in a field that Clementine didn’t recognize, and even though she’d only seen that picture a few times over the years, it was etched in her brain. 

“We gotta go into lockdown,” he finally said. 

“What? Why?” she squeaked unintentionally. 

“It’s the only way to keep everyone safe.” Jax shook his head, clearly not liking the turn of events any more than she did. “We’re all too spread out. We can’t protect everyone like this. We have plenty of room now. There’s no reason not to do it.”

“Do we need to vote?”

Jax shook his head again, causing Clementine’s heart rate to speed up. In the event of a true emergency, the President was now allowed to pull rank. But Clementine had never actually seen him do it. A fact that told her just how serious their predicament had become. 

“I’m pretty sure if I tried that, we wouldn’t be able to find Ope anyway,” he joked. “He’s hiding from Lyla.”

Clementine’s lips turned upward at the mention of her dad’s best friend and his fear of his wife. She’d never denied it was at least a little bit funny that a guy as big as Opie Winston was scared of someone as small as Lyla. 

“Well, then I’m going to get provisions,” she announced. 

“I’ll send the Prospects, baby girl.”

“I’m going,” she asserted. “If you’re going to lock me up, I get one last ride first. And since this isn’t about me, or you, then there’s nothing wrong with me going. Right?”

“The point,” Jax began, gnashing his teeth together, “is that we have no idea what this is about really. Yes, it could be Shelby, and I think it is. Definitely was tonight. But it  _ could _ be me. It  _ could _ be you. It  _ could _ be anyone. You’re not fucking going.”

“Daddy, I’m not doing this with you,” she said, speaking softly. “It’s happening. I need out. You didn’t let me go up there with you guys, and I’m sure now you think that was the right move, but if you’re so worried, you should’ve never let me step up to take over. People are going to be after me no matter what. My name is Teller. I’m a girl. And if I can’t handle myself now, with all this security and all these safety nets, what are we even doing?”

Jax opened his mouth as if he might protest further, but Clementine held up her hand to let him know she wasn’t quite finished yet. Jax’s tongue darted out and then he bit his bottom lip, a look Clementine had seen a few times over the years. It usually meant he was trying to keep himself from laughing at the absurdity of someone thinking that going up against him was a good idea. 

But all that meant was Clementine was on the right track. She couldn’t back down now. 

“I can handle this,” she insisted. “And you have to let me. Or I should go back to being Reece’s Old Lady. You pick.”

It was evident that Jax didn’t like either option Clementine was presenting him with, but she didn’t care. He was weighing the pros and cons finally, and if history told her anything, she’d win in the end. 

And she wasn’t wrong. The entire purpose behind letting her be in charge, the entire reason for changing their entire goddamn charter constitution, was to make sure there was a gentle transfer of power to the next generations after they lost both Abel and Thomas. If he didn’t let her go once in a while, even with something as small as an errand to the grocery store, they were in trouble. All of them. 

“You’re taking Shelby, then.”

“That makes no sense,” she retorted. “He’s probably the reason Reece got shot in the first place.”

The minute the words left her mouth, she knew she was in the wrong. She could still see Shelby out of the corner of her eye and she could tell the second his shoulders slumped in her peripheral. She hadn’t meant it that way at all, but it didn’t matter. She was angry and lashing out, and had taken it out on the person in the room that deserved it the very least. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled. 

“No, you’re probably right.”

“No. I’m not,” she argued. “I’m sorry.”

Shelby nodded curtly as Clementine looked back to her father fully again. He was watching them closely, a subtle expression of shock etched on his features. He obviously hadn’t expected her to agree, but the act of her apologizing so quickly had him reeling. 

“Those are my terms,” Jax reiterated. “Take ‘em or leave ‘em.”

Clementine sat back further in her chair, crossing her arms once more as she contemplated his offer. She had no desire to be around Shelby, or really anyone, but she knew she needed to leave the palace in order to prove herself capable. 

She was stuck. 

“Fine.”

Jax slapped the top of his desk in the same manner he did with his gavel in Chapel before smiling at them both and pointing toward the door. They were dismissed. 

Tomorrow was going to be fun. 


	3. Act Two

Clementine looked down at Reece and watched him sleeping peacefully for a second longer than was necessary. She knew he was fine, somewhere deep in her subconscious, but she was still having a hard time seeing anything other than him bleeding out on her favorite pool table whenever she caught sight of him since yesterday. She knew they weren’t invincible, more so than most in the club, in fact, but it was different when it came to Reece. After everything that had gone down with her family, Reece knew the rules. He wasn’t _allowed_ to get hurt.

From where she’d sat on the edge of the bed to pull on her boots, she leaned down to kiss his forehead, not wanting to leave and also knowing that, at least for her mental health, it was completely necessary. Her dad was finally letting her help in a way that had nothing to do with laundry, so backing out wasn’t an option.

But that didn’t mean she liked knowing he was here hurting, either.

As she stood back up, Reece grabbed her wrist and gave her a crooked smile as he looked up at her from his spot on the bed. “When’d you go and get all girly and romantic on me?” he teased.

“About the minute you decided to get shot, asshole,” she snapped back playfully.

She gave him a wink, letting him know she was half-kidding, causing him to laugh heartily. Of course, all this did was send him immediately into a coughing fit, and her heart rate accelerated rapidly as his body was wracked with spasms.

Clementine flew back down to his side and waited for it to pass, making sure it wasn't more serious than he was letting on. For the exact reason that they’d made the pact never to leave each other, if they could help it, he had a tendency to hide things from her if they even appeared scary.

“I’m fine,” he said quietly, noticing her expression finally. “It’s just a flesh wound.”

He even made sure to add in a slight British accent on the end of his sentence to imitate one of their favorite movies, probably hoping it would make her smile and distract her. And it almost worked.

Almost.

“Baby, seriously,” he said, reaching up to lightly touch her cheek. “I’ll be okay. Go shopping. I’ll be ready to go when you get back.”

She perked an eyebrow at him. “Ready to go, huh? For what, exactly?”

“Uh, I’m gonna sex you up. Obviously,” he argued.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes before patting his shoulder. “Sure, big man. Keep thinkin’ that.”

“What?” he whined. “Why not?”

“Well, we’re in lockdown,” she started, holding up her finger as she began ticking through her list of reasons. “And we are _not_ about to get busy with all these people within earshot, you weirdo. Especially my dad.”

“Why are we in lockdown?” he asked earnestly.

“You got shot,” she answered, her face deadpan and emotionless. “My dad usually frowns on that kinda stuff.” Reece poked out his bottom lip. “Hey, don’t do that,” she commanded. “You know how my dad is. And that was _before_.”

“I know. I know. Still…”

“You’ll live,” she interjected.

He groaned loudly to express his disappointment in the most juvenile way imaginable, even going so far as to fold his arms petulantly across his chest. And he ended up wincing from the sudden movement shortly after, trying desperately to hide his pain without her catching on.

Not that it worked.

“And there’s the fact that you can’t move,” she continued, pointing to his shoulder with another finger raised.

“I can move the parts that matter,” he pressed, shaking his hips.

“Oh my god,” she moaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re ridiculous. Just go back to sleep. Please.”

She blew him another kiss as she made her way to the door, waiting for his response. She knew this was their way, covering up true feelings with superficial conversation and never speaking of what was bubbling below the surface, but there were times when she wanted something more.

Like right now.

“Yes, boss,” he said, giving a mock salute.

“Damn straight.”

She heard him snort his laughter at her as she made it into the hall, a small smile still playing on her own lips. But as she rounded a corner into the main room, she saw Shelby talking to Happy and Bobby in a corner, leaning casually against a wall, and every bit of her good mood evaporated.

She knew he was her condition for leaving the clubhouse at all, but she still wasn’t fully on board. It had been forever since she’d had a babysitter, and while she understood the importance of safety, especially now, she could take care of herself.

And it didn’t help that for whatever reason, her dad seemed to trust him faster and more fully than anyone she’d ever met. Sure, Jax Teller was rarely wrong when it came to reading people, but Clementine didn’t trust it. Didn’t trust _him_.

“Ready?” she grunted at him when she was close enough.

“Yep,” Shelby returned, rushing to catch up with her.

“Hey, kid,” Jax hollered, pointing a finger at Shelby’s chest as they passed. “Straight to the pharmacy, grocery store, and back. Got it?”

“Yep,” he repeated.

“Don’t let her trick you,” Opie added with a grin.

Clementine’s eye roll in reaction to their comments only garnered laughter in response, but she didn’t stop to come back with any of her usual smartass comments. She didn’t want to stop. She didn’t want to give him time to second-guess himself.

She didn’t have any immediate plans to trick Shelby, but she also knew why they felt the need to warn him too. Clementine Teller wasn’t known for being the most level-headed and rational person when she was angry, and they could all tell she didn’t forgive them for the condition they’d carried Reece back in. But since it was a trait she’d most certainly gotten from her father, she didn’t think it was fair to have him be the one to say a thing.

_Hypocritical much?_

She didn’t say a word to Shelby as they made their way across the huge parking lot, now housing way more motorcycles than this place had seen in her lifetime. And she didn’t say a word as she started her own, either. True to his word to her dad, though, Shelby was right by her side, close enough to touch.

As Clementine wasn’t used to having people in her bubble anymore, she found herself already irritated enough to turn and punch him right in the nose. An instinct she knew came from the Teller line as well. Thankfully, as her dad often reminded her, she still had enough of her mom in there to balance everything out, often needing to only take a deep breath to regain a sense of something resembling a logical thought process.

An ability her father did _not_ possess.

She hadn’t expected him to disappear, but she still snarled when she realized he was right next to her again as they waited for the front gate to be opened for them. She prayed he got to the point where he realized Jax Teller was, in fact, a mortal and not the motorcycle god the neighboring charters made him out to be. And she hoped it would be faster than usual because she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take this type of blind reverence from Shelby. It had been forever since she’d had to deal with it, and frankly, she didn’t have all her coping mechanisms in place for it anymore.

But Clementine tried to push all the stress and negative energy out of her body as they rode off of the official border of the Sons of Anarchy headquarters. The sun beating down on her bare shoulders helped too, and even though she could already feel the sting of a sunburn brewing, she wasn’t about to do a damn thing to fix it. If anything, it’d serve as a reminder later that she had been allowed out in the daylight at some point.

She had learned to use these little annoyances to inform her current choices, like her therapist had shown her. Just because life sucked sometimes, he had said, it didn’t mean she had to wallow. It could simply be a way that the universe was telling her she was still alive and therefore obligated to make the best of whatever came her way.

Clementine had never told anyone the shit that regularly rattled around in her head, not since her mom had died, but it was still there, and as her therapist told her frequently, her reasons for doing things didn’t have to make sense to anyone but her so long as it didn’t hurt anybody.

And she made sure it never went that far.

Letting the air breeze through her long, blonde locks certainly helped too as they cruised through town, and she nearly forgot she wasn’t alone.

She took a sharp left and Shelby followed leisurely, making everything he did on his bike seem effortless. Like he’d grown up here his whole life and knew his way around. And Clementine added it to the list of things about Shelby that pissed her off for no good reason.

Clementine pulled into a spot in front of the small grocery store in town well before she was ready to stop her ride, and turned off her bike as Shelby took off his helmet. She shook out her hair, trying to fluff it up to keep it out of her face.

Shockingly, out of the corner of her eye, Clementine could see Shelby mocking her by pretending to shake out his imaginary mane of hair too, and she had to bite her bottom lip to keep from giggling.

“Cut it out,” she instructed.

“What?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

She rolled her eyes and walked inside ahead of him, her head held high. She’d already made up her mind that she wasn’t going to like him, no matter what he did. And though she had already figured he might try to break down her walls, she hadn’t been prepared for a pretty boy with a checkered past and a sense of humor.

Those were as rare in a motorcycle club as discussing your feelings.

Clementine headed straight for the first aisle, grabbing a cart as she passed a corral of them near the front, and knocking all the usual snack foods her dad liked into the basket without saying a word to Shelby. She could feel that he was watching her closely as she shopped, but she didn’t turn to verify. It didn’t matter, she told herself. He was there to keep watch over her and nothing else.

Clementine Teller didn’t need any more friends.

However, as she turned another aisle, she noticed his expression and found herself unable to stop from commenting on it. “What the hell is up with your face?” she whispered conspiratorially.

“Huh?”

“You’re awfully serious.”

“I can’t help it,” he issued softly. “You’re a Teller.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, her brows furrowing.

She wanted very much to be handed a legitimate reason to be mad at him, but now that it seemed to be happening, she discovered she wasn't prepared for the embarrassment that washed over her. She knew she was damaged goods, a broken person, but now that he seemed ready to echo her worst fears about herself back at her, she was scared to hear them out loud.

“Someone’s tried to kill me twice in the last 48 hours,” he commented. “I have a feeling your dad isn’t as bad a shot as they were if I bring you back hurt.”

Clementine’s eyes grew wide as the shock set in. It wasn’t what she’d been prepping herself for, but it was surprising anyway. “Damn. Your parents have been dead for, like, what? Ten minutes? And you’re already joking about it?” she scoffed. “You’ve got balls, sir.”

Shelby’s face fell ever so slightly, but he affixed the smirk back on his face, so she felt uncomfortable commenting on it. It was clear he was trying to keep it hidden, and she knew that trick well. All your carefully constructed lies came crumbling down if anyone looked too closely, and now was not the time. And this was not the place.

He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess…”

His words trailed off, amounting to nothing, but Clementine knew not to continue down that path anyway. Instead, she turned her attention back to the shelves and the mountains of food she still needed to pick up, letting him focus on the people shopping alongside them, trying to determine if there was danger nearby.

Neither of them said another word until they found themselves in front of the cashier with two baskets full of food. Once again, Clementine could feel Shelby’s eyes on her as she talked and joked with her favorite cashier, Kathleen. They’d grown up together, from very different worlds, but meeting in school nonetheless. And she’d always been Clementine’s link to the ‘normal’ world. The world not infected with constant near-death experiences and drama that often left you and anyone close to you on the wrong side of the law.

As they made their way back outside into the scorching midday heat, it seemed to hit Shelby that there was no way all the groceries Clementine had just bought would fit on their bikes, and she chuckled quietly as she pointed to the Prospects waiting for her.

“Give it to them,” she advised.

He looked thoroughly confused, but did as he was told, and suddenly she felt sorry for him. She could tell he was coming to all the wrong conclusions about why there were there in the first place.  
  
She had literally been where he was now, and even if she didn’t want or need him there, she couldn’t be mean for no reason. It was a surefire way to have her mom haunt her, for one thing.

“It’s not you,” she offered. “It’s me.”

But he didn’t seem to hear her. Since she didn’t feel like repeating it, as soon as she was finished, she hopped back on her bike and started back out onto the road, causing Shelby to have to race to catch back up with her.

And as soon as she was on Main Street again, she found herself the picture of ease once more. She couldn’t argue that time on her bike was what kept her from losing it, and definitely not to her dad, but it didn’t make it less true, either.

Before she was ready, they were pulling up in front of the pharmacy only a few blocks from the grocery store, but this time Shelby didn’t try to tease her. As they backed into their spots and turned off their bikes, Shelby blurted out a question, like he’d been dying to ask it for ages or something.

“What’s you?”

“What, uh, what?”

“You said it was you, not me. What’s you?”

She couldn’t hide her surprise as her eyes grew wider, convinced just a few short minutes ago that he hadn’t been listening at all. Mainly because that was something she was accustomed to experiencing in a clubhouse full of boys and men. She was rarely heard, but Shelby seemed to miss very little. Even from her.

Maybe _especially_ from her.

“Oh, uh, my dad. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you,” she explained. “The Prospects were there because he doesn’t trust me. Not you. He always does that shit. Tells me I can go and do whatever, but always has Prospects follow me, just in case.”

She shrugged to punctuate her sentence, trying to make it seem like it didn’t bother her at all, but she knew the lines permanently etched on her forehead gave her away if someone was watching as closely as Shelby appeared to be.

“They like you,” he remarked.

“Who?”

“The town,” Shelby clarified. “The lady in the store. Here in the pharmacy. They like you.” He motioned with his head discreetly to several people near the front as they waved at Clementine when they walked in the door. “And not ‘cause they’re scared of you.”

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, we take care of them, so it makes sense.” She bit the inside of her cheek, unsure if she should continue or not, but doing it anyway. “Without my dad and the club, this town woulda been dead years ago.”

Shelby nodded. “In ours, they just ignored us,” he elaborated. “Pretended we weren’t there.”

Clementine laughed humorlessly. “Bet not when they needed something, though, huh?”

“Exactly.”

He smirked again, his hands in his back pockets as they made their way to the window along the wall where the pharmacist was waiting for them.

“Hey, Clem,” Dr. Jefferson greeted her. “You here for the shipment?”

“Uh, no. We’re going into lockdown,” she whispered, leaning on the counter. She wanted nothing more than to keep this quiet. She knew sounding the alarm in Charming over nothing was never a good idea. “We need normal first aid stuff and some inhalers. I got a list.”

She pulled out a folded up piece of paper and handed it over quickly, and Dr. Jefferson took it and looked at her and the paper hard for a second before directing his attention to Shelby.

“He’s new,” she clarified.

“Do we need to be worried?” he asked, pulling his eyes and attention back to her.

“You might want to call in some people to cover shifts, if you can,” she answered. “But no, it should be fine. It’s just that everyone’s coming in and I don’t want you to be short-handed.”

“Okay.”

It was a simple answer, but coupled with the easy smile on his face, it spoke volumes. He knew that if her dad felt it was bad enough to bother the whole town with, the entirety of Charming would be under the protective umbrella the Sons offered. Whatever this was, though, seemed to be concentrated on the club only, and the normal treaties remained in place, meaning no innocents would be harmed in whatever feud they’d found themselves in.

There was no need to disrupt everyone’s life with their bullshit.

“So, uh, where to next?” Shelby asked suddenly as Dr. Jefferson disappeared into the back.

He leaned on the counter, balanced on his elbows, still facing the front of the store like he couldn’t relax or trust the quiet that descended around him in Charming.

“You heard my dad,” she retorted.

“Yeah, but we can go somewhere else if you want.”

She smirked when she realized what he was implying. “Oh, really?” She chanced a glance in his direction. “You’d defy His Majesty like that?”

“Last time I checked, Princess, you’re next in line. I’m not trying to piss off the next queen either.”

She guffawed at his comment, not expecting his answer in the slightest. “No, it’s fine. I’m good. We can just go home.”

He nodded, but didn’t tear his eyes away from the scene in front of him. He hadn’t stopped scanning everyone in here since they’d walked in, and while she appreciated the gesture, he had to know it wasn’t the least bit necessary. Not in Charming, anyway. It was the safest town in the entire state, probably.

And no one had ever been _that_ stupid.

As she continued to stare, though, she couldn’t help but notice the way his chin jutted out as if he was perpetually concentrating on the hardest algebra problem ever. And then she caught herself wondering if that’s what she’d come to look like since her mom and brothers had died.

Or if maybe he was always that serious.

Though she did have firsthand knowledge that dealing with the death of a parent, much less two, meant you were forced to grow up overnight, it didn’t mean that this hadn’t always been who Shelby was.

But before she could let that particular train of thought get away from her fully, she shook her head to physically jolt herself away from him. She didn’t need to know anything about this kid. They weren’t friends and they were never going to be friends either. He wasn’t going to be around long enough for that, as far as she knew, and there was no use getting attached. Even on the smallest level.

She didn’t need him and he didn’t need her.

They had to keep it that way.

Clementine turned back to Dr. Jefferson as he worked behind the counter, propping her head up in the palm of her hand as she watched, letting out a heavy sigh.

Out of nowhere, though, Shelby pushed her hard onto the floor.

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?” she screamed at him, wincing as the pain in her chest radiated outward.

The answer came in the form of a bullet, striking the glass where her head had been only a few seconds earlier. It sent shards raining down on them both, and Shelby pulled his gun out of his waistband before she had time to register what was going on. She copied his movements, still in a haze, in a strange muscle memory sort of way.

Clementine crawled along the floor toward the door as the bullets continued to zoom over their heads, and she sent up another prayer that everyone inside right now was still alive and going to be okay.

She pushed away the rapidly blackening edges of her vision as the anxiety and memories threatened to pull her under. She could lose it later, she decided. Right now, she had to keep the flashbacks of that night at bay and get everyone out of here and to safety as fast as possible. It was all that mattered. 


End file.
